"You're right, but this is where you negotiate with me, not where we discuss the Infected."
"Wasn't your predecessor an Infected mutual aid organization? Wouldn't you feel even the slightest hesitation when setting such a price?"
"I already told you, our Originium inhibitor is already sold at the lowest possible price. That in itself is support."
"Besides, based on my understanding of merchants, even if you obtained cheap medicine from us, you wouldn't let it reach the Infected at a low price. You'd only pocket the difference without a shred of guilt, squeeze the Infected dry, then laugh at our stupidity."
"That might happen among any race, but never among the Sarkaz, because there simply aren't enough Originium inhibitors."
"Frost, we can sell them at the usual price for profit and use our own judgment to support those who need help, rather than gambling on you taking discounted medicine from us to Infected settlements and selling it cheaply."
Oh, oh, oh.
After just a few days apart, the blockheaded dragon had become so imposing.
Russell poked his head out and, unsurprisingly, spotted Sister Tazi.
Compared to the snowfields, she looked far sharper now. Her eyes were clearly silver-gray, yet they inevitably called to mind dancing flames.
She truly was a born fighter. Even though she dealt with merchants and Nobles every day, her fighting spirit remained high.
Perhaps because someone had criticized her for lacking femininity, she seemed to have put on a little light makeup. However, it only seemed to serve as a reminder that "this is a woman."
Combined with her naturally heroic features and her slightly faded noble combat attire, one lap around town would probably make quite a few lesbians' legs go weak.
Her femininity had not increased at all after so long apart, but her